Treasure
by RadiantBeam
Summary: Generally speaking, people tried to get away from the Gallows. Bethany had chosen to walk into it willingly, and now Isabela was breaking into it. It was quite possible neither of them fit in with what people generally did with the Gallows, but Isabela didn't linger on it. [Isabela x Bethany] [One-shot]


Disclaimer: Dragon Age and its characters aren't and never will be mine. This was written for a friend who happens to enjoy the Isabela x Bethany Hawke pairing, and she wanted me to share it, so here we go.

Read and review, please!

* * *

Generally speaking, people tried to get _away _from the Gallows.

Isabela could understand why, of course. She wasn't a mage herself—far from it—but she'd heard the horror stories about how mages were treated in Kirkwall even before she'd washed up on its shores. The Templars were legendary for their itchy fingers, and the Gallows had literally been built as a prison; no doubt that calling the place home was a bit demoralizing.

Just a bit. It was only a suspicion Isabela had.

Judging by the number of apostates and blood mages the pirate had seen in only her first year at Kirkwall, her suspicion seemed to be shaping itself into a fact every day.

So usually, people tried to get away from the Gallows. Usually, those people were mages. It was very rare that someone would _choose _to go to the Gallows. Then again, Bethany Hawke had always been different from everyone else; it took a certain amount of bravery, Isabela supposed, to turn yourself in when you knew how mages were treated in Kirkwall.

But she had done it, believing it was best for her family and for herself.

People tried to get away from the Gallows. Bethany had gone into it willingly.

Isabela was pretty sure the youngest Hawke had made history with that decision.

As someone who hadn't been born a mage and had spent most of her childhood in a place where no one even batted an eye at mages in general, Isabela knew she had no reason to go into the Gallows. She saw the place often enough as it was when Hawke visited to speak with either Orsino or Meredith, and frankly she could never get out of it fast enough.

But the thing was—and it was easy to forget sometimes, because it had been years since she'd actually _acted _like one—Isabela was a pirate.

She was a damn _good _pirate.

And being a pirate involved things like sneaking through heavily fortified walls, slipping past every defense to reach a treasure that was well worth the risk. She hadn't had a reason to do it recently; Hawke usually kept her busy enough as it was. But the Gallows were heavily fortified, with plenty of defenses that would be difficult to slip past.

Especially difficult since unlike her usual adventures with Hawke, Isabela couldn't leave a trail of bodies in her wake. Killing someone who was attacking you and intended you harm was one thing; killing someone for doing their jobs was something that left a bad taste in her mouth.

So, no killing. Which made the whole thing about, oh. Infinitely more challenging.

But there was treasure in those walls, Isabela knew. There was treasure that was far more valuable than anything the woman had hunted during her time on the sea. Treasure that was well worth all of the risks she was taking.

Generally speaking, people tried to get away from the Gallows.

Bethany had chosen to walk into it willingly.

And now Isabela was breaking into it.

It was quite possible neither of them fit in with what people generally did with the Gallows, but Isabela didn't linger on it.

* * *

The Gallows were quiet at night.

It was something that had disturbed Bethany at first, when she had first settled into its walls. After spending a year confined to the cramped quarters of Gamlen's home, the youngest Hawke had gotten used to noise; the sound of her dog breathing, of Hawke shifting and murmuring in her sleep beside her. It might not have been the most comfortable place to call home, but it had still been _home _for a time.

Even before they'd come to Kirkwall, their house in Lothering had always been full of noise even at night. Carver and Hawke discussing (arguing, really) different fighting techniques after a long day of training even as Leandra scolded them about going to bed, the dog constantly patrolling the house to make sure all was well, Malcolm reading old spell books that he'd promised Bethany she could look at when she was older.

(They hadn't been able to save those books, when they'd been forced to flee Lothering. It was something that still made Bethany ache.)

So the silence of the Gallows had taken some time to get used to. It had its perks, of course; at least during the night, before going to bed, Bethany could get plenty of reading done. And considering the number of books she got from her friends—Varric's novels, manifestos from Anders, the romance stories that Isabela sent her—she had a _lot _to read.

It may not have been how she'd spent her nights before going to the Circle, but, well. It wasn't a bad way to spend her nights, either.

And maybe it was a little lonely, sure. But Bethany at least knew when she read that her friends had thought of her, had sent these books to her because they thought she'd appreciate them.

… Well, Varric and Isabela had. Anders had probably just wanted to expand his views on mage freedom and how it needed to be won. But Bethany would never say no to more reading material, and it was something to laugh over with Hawke.

Tonight was looking to be no different from any other night; still quiet, and Bethany had picked up one of the books Varric had sent her, a starting novel for a new series. It would keep her entertained for a few hours, at least; a way of relaxing after a long day of teaching to the young children in the Circle. Bethany enjoyed it, but it was _exhausting_ sometimes.

She had a new respect for her father.

She'd just settled down with the book when she heard someone knocking on her door.

Bethany paused, frowning as she set down her book. It couldn't be a Templar; they didn't do their rounds to make sure the mages were in bed until much later in the night, and they'd already gone by once to ensure everyone was in their room.

One of her students or a fellow mage, perhaps? But no, the rules were very clear. Once it was evening and after dinner, all mages had to stay in their quarters until morning.

So not a Templar, and more than likely not a mage. The only other option it could possibly be was a _thief_, but, well… thieves didn't usually _knock _to announce themselves. Not unless they _wanted _to get caught.

So it seemed the person at her door was a thief with a death wish.

Since Bethany wasn't in the mood to kill anyone tonight and had actually been rather looking forward to her reading after a long day, she sighed deeply and set aside her book, getting to her feet. "I'm coming," she called, and immediately could have kicked herself if she was able; right, yes, just _announce _herself to whoever was at her door, that was clearly intelligent.

The only defense she could think of was that it'd been a long, tiring day and her brain wasn't functioning at full capacity.

Well, now that the would be thief knew she was in her room, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Bethany checked to make sure her staff was within easy grabbing range, undid the lock, and opened her door.

Of all the people she'd expected to see outside her door tonight, Isabela was the last of them. "You aren't a thief," the young mage said, easing her hand away from her staff.

"Pirate, technically, but it all depends on who you ask, sweetness." The queen of the sea smiled, warm and easy as she straightened up from where she'd been resting her shoulder. "Can I come in? As thrilling as it was to sneak through the halls, I'd prefer to not be caught right at your door."

"… You broke into the Gallows," Bethany said. Or asked. It was genuinely hard to tell, from the tone of her voice.

"I did!" Realizing Bethany wasn't going to let her in any time soon, Isabela took it upon herself to step into the room. "Though really, 'break in' is _such _an exaggeration. I was just sneaky."

She paused as Bethany closed the door behind her.

"_Very _sneaky."

The mage snorted, trying to stifle the noise; but it was too late; the laugh rose from her throat for a short moment, light and sweet, and Isabela's eyes gleamed like gold at the sound. Bethany swallowed her giggles as she checked to make sure her door was locked, before turning to face the older woman. "Oh, yes," she hummed. "Very sneaky indeed. I remember how sneaky you could be."

Isabela's lips twitched as she made her way around Bethany's room, examining the small space. "You would indeed," she said. "You were on some of my grandest adventures."

Bethany's lips twitched. "I'd hardly count running around Kirkwall doing every job available a grand adventure," she murmured, following in the pirate's footsteps and scooping up her book; miracle of miracles, Isabela hadn't tried to read it, and she took advantage of the lull to place it back on her shelf.

"Oh ye of little faith," Isabela sighed, flopping down onto the nearest chair and watching as her companion put away her book. "_Grand _adventures, Bethany, every single one of them. That you believe otherwise wounds me."

"Oh, I don't know." Bethany hummed in amusement, settling down in the chair across from the older woman. "I've heard the stories of what you and my sister get up to. Those sound like far grander adventures than anything I ever participated in."

A soft snort was her reply, the pirate lazily waving a hand in the air. "Hardly," she said dryly. "I swear I'll never understand Hawke's desire to save Kirkwall from itself. Was she always this noble and self-sacrificing?"

"I'm afraid she was. She gets it from Father." Got it, Bethany thought, she _got it _from Malcolm; her father had been dead for years, and sometimes she still found herself slipping into the present tense when she spoke of him, especially when the conversation involved her eldest sibling. The resemblance between the two of them was uncanny.

"Well, next time you write to her you may want to say something about that. I'm fairly certain that next time she runs off with some half-baked idea of saving someone from themselves, Fenris is just going to lock her up."

Isabela paused.

"In _his _mansion, not the estate."

Bethany spared a moment to wonder if Fenris's mansion even had locks.

"I'm afraid there isn't much I can do to convince her to stop." Bethany smiled, and it was a mixture of exhaustion and affection that only Hawke ever seemed to coax out of her. Even now that she was in the Circle, that didn't change.

"I was afraid you'd say that. Well, perhaps one day Fenris will make good on his threat."

As much fun as it was to think about the many ways Fenris could try to keep Hawke from doing whatever she felt she needed to do to make Kirkwall a better place—and Maker, good luck to him with _that_, getting the eldest Hawke to not do something was akin to pulling teeth, Bethany knew from years of experience—it was ignoring the much larger question that had wiggled its way into the mage's brain and refused to be dislodged.

People didn't just _break in _to the Gallows without a reason, after all. Even Isabela, for as shallow and flighty as she tended to pass herself off as, wouldn't have risked something so dangerous for no gain.

Needless to say, Bethany was curious. The question was, how to ask about it. Isabela had a thick skin—most things people considered grievous insults rolled off of her like water—but Bethany wanted to be thoughtful all the same.

Even if she really had no idea what thoughtful _was _with the other woman but, well. She was willing to try.

"So," Bethany began.

"So," Isabela echoed, smirking.

"You broke into the Gallows."

"You said that already, sweetness." Isabela paused, tilting her head to the side as she studied Bethany. "Did that thought break you? Because if it did, please don't tell Hawke. She never lets me have _any _fun."

"You," Bethany said, "are deflecting from the topic."

Isabela held up both hands, the pure picture of innocence. "My dear Bethany, I'm simply agreeing with you! I _did _break into the Gallows. And let me tell you, it wasn't _easy_. I thought this place had enough Templars as it was during the day, but the halls are practically crawling with them at night."

It was a simple observation, nothing more, but it planted an unwelcome image in Bethany's head of Isabela having a few too close encounters with the Templars that patrolled the halls of the Gallows. The order was strict enough as it was on the mages contained in its walls; the younger mage was fairly certain she'd have nightmares if she thought too hard about what they'd be willing to do to someone who had broken into the place just to see a mage.

Except now the mental image had formed, and it wouldn't go away. A chill skittered its way down Bethany's spine.

"None of them saw you, did they?" It came rushing out before she could stop it. "I mean—of course they didn't, just, if they _did _they would hurt you without even stopping to ask who you came to see—or they might even torture you to find out, and I don't—"

A gentle warmth rapidly snapped Bethany out of her rambling, and for a moment the mage sat there dumbly, blinking back images of Isabela being tortured, being bloodied and beaten. Isabela had covered her hand with her own, gently stroking the back with her fingers, and Bethany took a deep breath at the soothing sensation, trying to compose herself and banish the images.

It could have happened, but it hadn't. Isabela was right here, and she was safe. That was all that mattered.

"Sorry," she murmured. "That thought got away from me, I'm afraid."

"Don't apologize, Bethany." Compared to before Isabela's voice was soft, warm, gentle; there was a note of soothing to it that hadn't been there before. "And don't worry. No one saw me." She paused, chuckled. "I'm quite certain we wouldn't be having this conversation right now if someone saw me."

The comment had its intended effect and Bethany finally, fully relaxed, laughing softly as well. "A possibility I didn't consider, I admit," she said.

"Don't worry, I considered it for you."

"You're very kind." Bethany glanced down, to where Isabela's hand still covered her own. After a moment of thought she twisted her wrist, turning her hand over and gently lacing their fingers together. Isabela blinked, tensed ever so subtly at the gesture—but after a few seconds, she relaxed and released a quiet breath that Bethany probably wasn't supposed to notice.

So instead of asking about that, the mage focused on what she'd wanted to ask before. "You didn't answer my question, you know."

Isabela smiled, and it was a light, warm thing. "You didn't ask me a question."

Bethany rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "You broke into the Gallows," she continued. "But the thing is, I still don't know _why _you broke into the Gallows."

"I could have just done it for the challenge," Isabela said lightly.

Bethany snorted softly at that. She knew Isabela; being a pirate meant taking risks, sure, but those were risks that she chose to take specifically because she felt they would pay off. Breaking into the Gallows was a risk with no possible reward. Isabela was daring, certainly; no one could ever deny that she was daring.

But she wasn't _stupid_.

If Isabela had broken into the Gallows, it was because she thought there was something in it that made it worthwhile. The question, then, was _what _was in the Gallows that the pirate would find so valuable she'd risk her life and her freedom for it.

"Is there some treasure in the Gallows that I'm not aware of?"

Isabela blinked, and for the first time since Bethany had known her looked genuinely confused. "Excuse me?"

Bethany leaned back in her chair. "You don't do things _just _for the challenge, Isabela. But I don't think we have anything particularly valuable here, unless you feel like running off with some of our spell books."

The pause that followed her words was almost comically long, and Isabela seemed to be utterly lost as to how the conversation had progressed in this particular direction. By the time Bethany had _realized _this, though, it was too late; the pirate composed herself with a husky laugh, crossing her legs. "Depends," she hummed. "Are they spell books with _dirty _spells? People will pay good coin for that, you know."

Bethany didn't need that reminder, thank you very much. "I'm not telling you," she sniffed.

Isabela gasped, as if she'd been wounded. "Bethany! After all this time, I thought we were friends!"

"A mage must have _some _secrets." Bethany couldn't help the small grin. "We're monitored enough in Kirkwall as it is; we need to keep something to ourselves."

"Including the dirty spells in your books?"

"_Especially _the dirty spells in our books."

Isabela let out a bark of laughter, slamming her hand against the table as she tried to keep her composure so no one would come to investigate why strange noises were coming from Bethany's room in the middle of the night. "Sweetness," she choked out, "you realize you just confirmed your books _do _have dirty spells?"

"Perhaps, but I'll never tell you how to find them."

Isabela had to bring a hand to her mouth now to muffle her laughter, and for a moment Bethany took delight in the fact that the tables had finally managed to turn. She was hardly experienced—being in the Tower hadn't changed _everything _about her, after all—but she wasn't the innocent young woman she'd been when she'd first arrived in Kirkwall, either. It was nice to finally beat Isabela at her own game, even if only in small ways.

The fact that it made Isabela laugh, and the fact that Isabela had an utterly beautiful laugh that Bethany could listen to over and over again, happened to be a nice, unexpected benefit.

For a moment the pair lapsed into comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to speak. Bethany knew this couldn't last forever—Isabela would need to leave, and probably soon if she wanted to miss the late night Templar checks—but she wanted to enjoy it for as long as it _would _last.

After all, there was no way of knowing if Isabela would ever break into the Gallows again.

"You're wrong, you know," Isabela said at last, her voice unusually soft.

Bethany blinked, glancing at her. "About what?"

"There _is _something very valuable in these walls. Something far more precious than any treasure I've chased in the past."

That was news to the youngest Hawke; as far as she knew, the most valuable thing in the Gallows was Meredith's brand new sword, and that wasn't the kind of thing even someone as opportunistic as Isabela would be interested in.

"Well, now I'm curious." Bethany rested her chin in her hand, watching the pirate who sat across from her. "I've never heard of actual treasure in the Gallows. Did you hear a rumor?"

Isabela laughed, and like her voice it was soft; a soft, hesitant sound. "Something like that," she murmured, resting her hands in her lap as she shifted in her chair. Bethany could no longer see them, but she could have sworn that she was twisting her fingers together, an oddly nervous gesture that didn't suit the other woman at all. "It wasn't a rumor, exactly. I already knew the treasure was here."

Bethany lifted a brow, smiled. "Are you going to tell me what it is or keep me in suspense?"

There was a moment of silence, before Isabela smiled. She was looking down at her hands now, and the smile was nothing like anything Bethany had seen from her before; it was a half-smile, small, slightly unsure, and it made the mage's breath catch.

It was nothing like anything Bethany had seen from her before, but it still suited her as well as any other smile.

"I could at least help you look for it if I knew about it," she continued when Isabela didn't immediately respond. "You can't always be in the Gallows, Isabela. I can keep an eye out for it and let you know what I see or hear."

Finally, Isabela took a deep breath, glancing at her. "I don't need to look for the treasure, Bethany. I know exactly where it is." She paused. "I know exactly _what _it is."

Bethany waited, even as the way Isabela was looking at her sent warmth shooting down her spine. She held the pirate's gaze, and waited.

"… You're going to make me say it, aren't you," Isabela groaned.

For a moment, Bethany very seriously considered making Isabela say it. It may have taken her an embarrassingly long time to catch on to what the pirate was talking about—especially since at this point, the other woman wasn't even _trying _to disguise her true motives for breaking into the Gallows tonight—but now it was so obvious that the mage would have had to be blind to miss the implications.

The thought made a slight blush color her cheeks. Well. No one had ever called her _treasure _before. That was certainly a new and interesting term of endearment.

"You're blushing," Isabela muttered. "Do I _really _need to say it if you're blushing? Because clearly you understand what I'm saying."

Well then.

Now Bethany _really _wanted her to say it. So she just smiled, all innocence, and waited.

Isabela jabbed a finger at her. "I know what you're doing," she said, but she sounded like she was trying to contain her laughter, and she was smiling a little despite herself. Bethany knew then that she could push this just a little further if she really wanted to; the older woman didn't seem genuinely annoyed with it, and there was certainly fun in the fact that she had managed to get her this far out of her comfort zone already.

It said a lot, really, about what Isabela was willing to do for Bethany that she'd allowed herself to be pushed this far.

Finally, though, mercy won out in Bethany's mind. As much fun as it was to nudge and prod Isabela along, she didn't want to push her _so _far that she got upset or uncomfortable. "I'm just enjoying this," she hummed. "No one's ever compared me to _treasure _before."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, sweetness." Isabela leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands together, and Bethany found herself immediately missing how close the older woman had gotten to her before this moment. "I'm not comparing you to treasure. I'm saying you _are _treasure."

"… Oh," Bethany said eloquently. The idea of being the target of someone's affection wasn't a foreign one to the youngest Hawke; she'd had her fair share of interested suitors even back in Lothering, though of course she'd never done anything to return that interest. The whole apostate thing would have put a strain on even the most understanding relationship, and the Templar presence in the town was too much to make her comfortable with letting someone who wasn't her family in on her secret.

But that had been back in _Lothering_, when the people who had expressed an interest in her were mainly bumbling young men her own age who were just awakening to the fact that they were attracted to women in that way. Certainly, there had been Leliana from the chantry, but whatever tentative friendship Bethany had shared with her had died the moment the older woman had chosen to accompany the Hero of Ferelden and the darkspawn had burned Lothering to the ground.

And once she'd been taken away to the Gallows, that had been the end of it in her mind. Bethany knew the rules for mages; they weren't allowed to have lovers or families. Any thoughts she'd had of being with someone she'd loved, of having children, had been buried the moment the Templars had come through Gamlen's door.

So the idea of being the target of someone's affection wasn't an odd one. Bethany just hadn't expected it to come up _now_, when she was behind lock and key in the Gallows. And of all the people in her life she'd ever thought would show that kind of interest in her, she'd never expected _Isabela_ to be the one who ultimately showed it.

Isabela chuckled. "Are you always this articulate?" she teased. Her chuckle turned into a squawk when Bethany smacked her shoulder, blushing. "Well," the pirate laughed, rubbing her shoulder. "I suppose I should thank the Maker you didn't use magic."

Bethany huffed, trying to get her blush back under control. "Believe me," she muttered, "if I was going to use magic on you, it wouldn't be for that."

There was a long, long moment as those words slowly sank in. Bethany's blush deepened as Isabela simply _smirked_. "My, my," the pirate drawled. "I see _someone's _been reading up on dirty spells after all."

Giving up on her blush for a lost cause—at this point, Bethany just had to accept that her face would just be permanently red after tonight—it occurred to the younger woman that time had passed quickly, and the sooner Isabela left the better. The visit had been short, far too short, and after the revelations of, well—_everything_—there was a part of her that just wanted to hold on to the pirate and never, ever let her go again.

But at this point, considering how new everything was, she doubted her companion would appreciate the sentiment.

Isabela must have sensed the change in her mood, though, even though Bethany hadn't said a word to indicate otherwise. The infamous queen of the sea sighed, leaning back against her chair. "Well," she hummed. "I think that's my cue to leave."

Bethany blinked, watching as Isabela stood. "I didn't say anything."

"Your eyes gave you away, sweetness." Isabela took a moment to stretch out, and Bethany tried to ignore the way subtly defined muscle rippled under dark skin as she stood.

Tried, and failed.

_Dammit_.

"Will you come back?" she asked, desperately hoping that the older woman hadn't noticed her brief slip. Judging by the small, pleased smirk that curved her lips, she'd totally noticed. Mercifully, she didn't seem like she'd hang it over her head. At least, not for now.

"Oh, certainly. I have an easier time breaking in once I know _how _I can get in. I must admit, I was hoping for some sex out of this, but alas."

Isabela winked, and combined with the light tone of her voice it let Bethany know she wasn't being _entirely _serious. Bethany laughed, at once amused by how little her old friend—her partner, now? Maker, she didn't know, they'd need to talk about that—had changed, and yet quietly marveling at how much she _had _changed.

"Out," she said lightly, giving Isabela a gentle shove to the door. "If you're going to leave, now will be the best time. The Templars should be in the middle of a shift change."

"So eager to see me leave." Isabela spun around mid-step, grinning down at Bethany as she moved backwards and bumped into the door. "I don't get a reward for finding the treasure?"

Bethany was pretty sure there was a romance novel out there—probably one that Varric himself had written—that described this situation in exact detail. She knew how those tended to end, and if she was being completely honest with herself, she'd been wanting to kiss Isabela now for _awhile_. So she simply took advantage of the opportunity, leaning up and cupping Isabela's face as she kissed her.

Time didn't stop, the world didn't end, nothing really clicked into the place and felt exactly right like so many books described it. In fact, as far as kisses went, it was laughably chaste; a simple pressing of lips and nothing more. Bethany was hardly the most experienced kisser, after all. But it was warm, and soft, and once Isabela realized what was going on she leaned into it and returned it as it was given, letting out a small sigh when Bethany pulled back.

The blush was back full force now, and Bethany hesitantly lowered her hands from Isabela's face. Her palms still felt warm from the other woman's skin. "How was that?" she asked, resisting the urge to let any sense of nervousness leak through in her words or in her actions.

Isabela's eyes had been closed up until this point, and they slowly opened as Bethany's words registered. She studied the younger woman for a moment, seeming to think something over, before she made up her mind and smiled. "I liked it," she said. "But I don't think _one _is enough, sweetness."

And before Bethany could even think of a reply the pirate gently gripped her wrists, tugged her in closer—right up against her—and kissed her again.

_Oh_.

If the first kiss had been chaste, the second kiss was anything but. Isabela, bless her, knew all too well that Bethany wasn't the most experienced when it came to these matters, so she was gentle, slow; clearly asking for permission instead of demanding a response, her tongue pressing lightly against Bethany's lips. There was only a moment's hesitation before the mage opened her mouth to the request, and—

_Oh, my._

The second kiss was slow, easy, gentle; if Bethany's inexperience bothered Isabela at all, she gave absolutely no indication of it, making a low encouraging sound in her throat when the mage moved hesitantly against her in response. It ended far too soon for Bethany's liking, and she cursed the fact that her lungs were screaming for air.

Isabela must have noticed her frustration because she chuckled, pressing a light kiss to the tip of her nose as she released her wrists. "Don't worry," she murmured. "I'll teach you to breathe through your nose next time."

Next time. There was going to be a next time. The thought made Bethany smile and she sighed, nuzzled into Isabela as she slide their hands together, squeezed. "I'll hold you to that."

Isabela laughed again, kissing her hair this time. "Then it's a promise."


End file.
